Authors: Helen Douglas
I shut my eyes and tried to remember which direction I had been coming from, which direction I was walking in, when Admiral Westland had escorted me to Admiral Wolfe. The clock had been on my right. I kept the clock on my left and headed down the next corridor.
I passed three empty cells, their doors open, before turning a corner and coming face to face with a guard. He was the only guard, standing outside the only closed cell. This had to be where Ryan was being kept.
‘Don’t move,’ said the guard. He raised his gun and pointed it at my chest. I was aware of a red dot trained on my heart.
‘I’m lost,’ I said, hoping he wouldn’t recognise me from the news. ‘I was looking for the ladies’ room and I think I took the lift to the wrong floor. Where am I?’
‘You’re in the lock-up, miss,’ said the guard, lowering his weapon. ‘You need to turn around and go right back the way you came.’
Ten minutes later I was back on the lawn. I wished I had a pen and paper so I could map out the route I’d taken. But it wasn’t so difficult to remember. The kitchen led to the service corridor which led everywhere. So long as I could get into Clarence’s apartment, I could access the service area and the lock-up. We’d need to find a way to get Ryan out of his cell, but once we’d done so, we could get him into the service area and out through the kitchen. This evening hadn’t been a complete waste of time after all.
‘There you are!’ bellowed a familiar voice.
There was a good chance I would need Clarence – or access to his apartment – to execute the rescue. So I gritted my teeth, turned on a smile and walked towards him, a fake stagger in my steps. Clarence opened his arms to receive me in a hug, and I was relieved to see he had changed his shirt.
‘Where did you go?’ he asked.
I shrugged. ‘I couldn’t work out the intercom so I came outside to get a drink.’
He laughed hard. ‘You silly thing. Don’t they have intercoms in 2012?’
I shrugged and smiled. ‘No.’
He picked up a bottle of water from a table and we walked down to the lake’s edge. A few candles still bobbed along the shoreline, though most had burnt themselves out by now.
‘Stillwater Lake,’ said Clarence. ‘It belongs to the Institute. Families rent pedaloes here on summer afternoons, but they never go beyond the cove. If you paddle beyond the corner there, the lake opens up. It’s twice the size it looks from here.’
‘It’s lovely,’ I said.
‘Give me a hand.’
Clarence pulled at a small rowing boat until it was freed from its protective covers. He dragged it to the water.
‘Jump in,’ he said.
I sat in the boat, while he kicked off his shoes and rolled up his trousers. Effortlessly, he pushed the boat down the beach and into the water, paddling up to his knees. Once it was floating, he clambered in and sat opposite me. He fitted the oars into their slots and began rowing us out beyond the cove. The orchestra had stopped playing, but the deep notes of a lone saxophone followed us across the water.
‘Close your eyes,’ he said.
I did as he asked and listened to the creak and groan of the oars, the slap of the water as the oars pushed it aside, the quiet rustle of leaves in the trees. I trailed one hand in the cool silk of the lake and focused on my own slow breathing.
The oars rattled in their rowlocks and we stopped rowing. I felt the tilt and wobble of the boat on the water.
‘Open your eyes,’ said Clarence.
I opened them. All around me was intense darkness. The water was black. The trees were shady silhouettes in the distance. But above was the most incredible show of glittering stars.
I gasped.
It was like magic. I might be living in a different country with different people in a completely different time, but some things hadn’t changed. The constellations winked at me like old friends.
Clarence stopped rowing. He hoisted the oars inside the boat.
‘Lie back,’ he said. ‘You can see the whole sky from here.’
I rested my head on the wooden bench and laid my legs across the bench by his head. He lay the opposite way and there we were head to toe, gazing up at the inky, star-studded night sky.
I found myself scanning the sky for Orion, but the constellation was nowhere to be seen. Still missing. Ryan had told me once that it was a winter constellation, that the days would be shortening before I would see it again. The first constellation I recognised was Cassiopeia, its w-shape a clear message in the sky. I navigated from there to Vega and then to the big square of Pegasus. Finally I found Perseus and fixed on Algol, the so-called demon star with its slow wink. The ancients thought it was bad luck, but I didn’t think that. Luck was too close to Fate – and I didn’t believe in Fate. I might not be able to influence the vast tides of time, but I would control my own destiny. A star shot across the sky, leaving a bright trail in its wake.
‘Did you see that?’ I asked.
‘It’s the Perseid meteor shower,’ said Clarence. ‘It peaked a couple of nights ago, but there should still be a few shooting stars.’
Before the words were out of his mouth, another star shot across the sky.
‘This is so beautiful,’ I said.
His fingertips brushed mine, an accidental touch, fleeting, like the stardust burning in the sky.
Another star grazed the night sky.
‘Did you see that one?’ asked Clarence.
‘Yes.’
His fingers moved over mine and stayed there, the warmth of his hand now wilfully, knowingly touching me. I didn’t move. I held my breath and reminded myself I was doing this for Ryan. Minutes passed. More stars tripped across the sky.
‘They’re not really stars,’ I said. ‘It’s just dust burning up in our atmosphere.’
‘I know.’
Clarence’s fingers caressed mine. It was a light touch. But it was a step too far. I retracted my hand, curled it into a tight fist.
‘I’ve always loved this lake,’ said Clarence. ‘I learnt to swim in it, I learnt to sail on it. I even learnt to scuba-dive here. It’s much deeper than you might think.’
My heart jolted. I knew how we were going to get Ryan off the grounds of the Institute: under the water.
‘But this is perfect, isn’t it?’ said Clarence.
It was perfect: the lake; the stars; the music.
And now I had the perfect plan.
Trying not to jangle the key, I unlocked the door and tiptoed inside.
‘It’s three in the morning. I was getting worried,’ Peg said. Empty coffee mugs and schoolbooks were spread across the table. He shut his textbook and came towards me.
‘Everything’s fine. I’ve got so much to tell you.’
‘Tell me he didn’t touch you.’ Peg’s voice was hoarse.
‘I was fine the whole time,’ I said, mentally brushing aside the moment I’d felt vulnerable, alone in Clarence’s apartment. ‘Although he did come close to throwing up all over me.’
Peg shook his head. ‘What a charmer.’
I kicked off my heels. ‘Help me with this zip.’
Peg’s hands were cold against my skin. His hands shook as he struggled to unhook the catch at the top of the dress. When he pulled the zip down to my waist, I felt my whole body relax. Clarence had magically selected a dress in the right size, but the bodice was tight against my ribs. Now I could breathe.
I stepped out of the dress and threw it over the couch. ‘I have a plan. I have it all worked out.’
‘You wanna put some clothes on before you tell me about it?’ He was looking at the floor.
I ran into my room, grabbed a T-shirt and tugged it over my head. ‘He thinks I like him,’ I shouted.
‘Why does he think that?’ Peg shouted back.
‘Because I wanted him to think that,’ I said, as I pulled on a pair of shorts. ‘Actually, he doesn’t seem so bad. A bit creepy and a bit pathetic, but not that bad, you know?’
‘He
is
that bad. Don’t let him fool you.’
I went back into the living room. Peg was tidying up his schoolbooks.
‘Why do you hate him so much?’ I asked.
‘Because he’s spoilt and arrogant.’
I perched on the edge of one of the couches. ‘Clarence said he stole the fuel for Ryan’s ship. Is that true?’
Peg nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s true.’
‘So then why . . .’
‘He didn’t get Ryan that fuel because he wanted to help him. He got it in exchange for Ryan taking the blame for something. Clarence thinks he can buy his way out of trouble.’
‘What are you talking about? What happened?’ I asked.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Tell me.’
Peg rubbed his hands over his face and leant back against the table. ‘A few months ago – it would have been March – Ry was completely stuck. He had a ship and he had a plan to save you, but no fuel. You can’t just drive into a fuel depot and ask for a few tonnes of premium grade fuel without the right paperwork. We were all out of ideas. And then one night, we went to a party on the other side of Winnipesaukee. Me and Ry, Lyra, the twins.’
My stomach knotted at the thought of Ryan and Lyra going to a party together.
‘Lyra hooked up with Clarence. She’d been on a couple of dates with him before, but they weren’t together officially or anything. Anyway, they left the party before the rest of us.’
I tried to get it straight in my head. Lyra had been with Ryan for a year. Lyra dated Clarence five months ago. Ryan thought she liked Peg now.
‘So what happened that night?’
‘We left the party and drove home. There’s no expressway around the lake unless you make a massive detour. Halfway home we found Clarence’s car in a ditch. It had been raining heavily and the roads were slick. Lyra was injured, but he hadn’t called an ambulance or anything because he was drunk.’
‘Oh, God.’
‘Driving under the influence would have meant immediate expulsion from the Academy and the end of any ambitions he might have for a career at the Institute. He asked us if one of us would say we’d been driving. Ryan was the only one who hadn’t been drinking.’
‘So he agreed?’
‘Yeah. Ryan asked Clarence if he could get hold of five tonnes of premium grade fuel. He said he could. So Ryan took the blame. He was suspended from the Academy, but he didn’t care. He had the fuel he needed and a way back to you.’
‘And Lyra?’
Peg shrugged. ‘Her leg and pelvis were badly damaged. She had three operations, but she’ll always have a limp. She might have forgiven Clarence, but he never once called her to see how she was. Lyra was in hospital and Clarence was out drinking and partying with some other girl. Lyra had to let Clarence get away with it, because Ryan needed her to keep his secret so he could get back to you. So yeah – Clarence is right at the top of people I don’t like very much.’
I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled. ‘That explains a lot.’
‘I’m gonna make some more coffee. You want some?’
Five minutes later, we were sitting together on one of the couches, each with a cup of coffee.
‘You ready to hear my plan?’ I asked, rubbing my eyes.
‘Shoot.’
‘I’m going to call Clarence and ask if I can come over tomorrow night and watch a movie with him.’
‘I already don’t like this. I don’t trust him. I’m not saying he would be violent or anything, but he’s . . .’
‘Hear me out. I’m going to get him really drunk. And then I’m going to suggest we go outside and sit by the lake or something. You’ll be waiting down by the lake.’
‘How am I going to get through the security entrance? They count people in and out. By six o’clock the Institute is closed to visitors.’
‘Do you still have Antoine’s map?’
‘Yeah.’ He jumped up and snatched the map from the dining room table.
I opened it, resting it half on Peg’s lap and half on my own. ‘The lake at the back of the Institute is called Stillwater Lake. It looks quite small from the back lawn of the Institute, but once you get beyond the cove it opens up.’
‘How do you know this?’
‘Clarence took me for a romantic boat ride under the stars.’
‘What a creep.’
‘He also told me that he learnt to scuba-dive in that lake.’
A smile crept on to Peg’s face. ‘I think I know where this is going.’
‘If you came across the lake in a boat, you’d be seen. But if you scuba-dive from the far side of the lake, you can emerge in the forest this side of the fence.’
‘Genius.’
‘I need to get Clarence so drunk he passes out.’
‘He’s a big guy,’ said Peg. ‘That will take a lot of alcohol. Let me talk to the twins. Their dad’s a pharmacist. They might be able to suggest something.’
I drained my coffee. ‘Then we dress you as Clarence and we both go back inside and up to Clarence’s apartment.’
‘Don’t they have security?’
‘No. Not really. Just a doorman. I mean, he’d probably challenge us if he thought we were visitors. But if he thinks you’re Clarence and I’m his friend . . .’